Flashes Before Your Eyes
by Radioactive23
Summary: This will be a series of chapters exploring different events that Future Simon witnesses - post 3x08. Contains strong language.
1. It Keeps Happening in the Storeroom

**I just can't get enough of Superhoodie so I'm going to use this to explore lots of different things from his point of view. They won't necessarily be in chronological order, although this first chapter takes place pretty soon after future Simon travels back. Hopefully it won't jump around too much.**

**I don't own Misfits.  
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><p>Shaun hasn't arrived yet. Unfortunately.<p>

Kelly skids through the open doors of the community centre on Nathan's favourite nifty wheelchair, swerving just in time. Close, but misses. Misses the then Simon sitting on the benches eating his lunch - out of an actual lunchbox.

Future Simon watches from a distance. Pulls his hood tighter around his face. Thinks there's something in what Tony said. Without a probation worker the gang _is_ slightly feral.

Sees Kelly screw her nose up at himself. Can't hear what she says - but remembers.

"Are you really eatin' watermelon?" Nods. "Fookin' hell. Good job Nathan's not here. He'd be rippin' the shit outta ya."

Ah - Nathan. If Simon's flash was accurate then Nathan woke up in his coffin last night. Could've sent Kelly the message this morning. Smirks to himself. _Tomorrow, _he thinks. _Payback, Nathan. Payback._

Smiles fondly at them both until he realises. Where is Alisha and Curtis?

He works his way around the back of the community centre, knowing it like the back of his hand. Slips into the unlocked door. Freezes at the sound for a moment. The sweet noise fills him with joy - and _her_ by the sounds of it. Only, his joy collides with hate and anger. And lust, but he pushes that one aside.

Follows the sound with agonised steps, like he's being pulled towards it. Wants to run away from what's coming. So badly wants to stay.

Afraid the noise of his beating heart will give him away. Edges closer anyway.

Alisha is in there. He can hear her moaning. They think that they're alone. They're not. He can watch through the shutters.

It's hard to see. Everything is hard. _Everything_. But anything is better than nothing at this point - even if it comes with Curtis' penis attached.

Why isn't Curtis looking at her? She's all that Simon can see. Mouth slightly open, eyes bright, hand moving faster.

Shifts where he stands - uncomfortable. Turned on. Looks through Curtis to her. _Too soon_, he reminds himself. _She has to do this_. _Has to. _Hates Curtis in a way he's never hated anyone. Only he can't - because it's _Curtis._

It's fascinating as much as it's heartbreaking. She's here. Right in-front of him. So...

So...

_Alive._

So groaning out someone else's name. It's like she's cheating on him. Only she's not. And the thought makes his head pound.

He watches right to the end; ignoring another part of him that is pounding. He waits. Her climaxing taking far too long and not nearly long enough.

Ready to escape the moment that she gives in. Focuses on her beautiful eyes until she rams them shut.

She comes but there's something missing.

_Him_.

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading! <strong>


	2. Secret Helping Hand

**Thank you so much for the reviews. It means a lot to me that people are reading and enjoying what I write. I'm very intrigued by the bits of Future Simon we never saw and his interaction with the other characters; whether they're aware of his presence or not. This one is more light-hearted and explores a different character dynamic. It's a difficult balance to know how much of panty-sniffing Simon remains in Superhoodie, but I'd like to think he's still a bit of a weirdo underneath the muscles!**

**I don't own Misfits.  
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><p>So... The comic-books lied.<p>

Turns out being a superhero isn't all that.

In fact; it's a fuck load of pressure.

It keeps Simon awake at night in a lair that isn't the lair that he remembers. But then - he's never seen it in this time, from this point of view, with newly found parts of him hurting quite in this way.

He hates that it's tainting the memories he's trying so desperately to hold onto.

Kept working and working until the place resembled something that it should. Living a life from memory, rather than his own. Put everything in its place with a forced, invisible hand. Inflicting the lifestyle on himself over and over.

It still never looks right. It's exactly the same only... _not_. Like looking past his reflection into a mirrored world where everything is backward. And black. And empty.

He knows what it's lacking.

_Her. _

The place is too damn quiet to ever be called home.

The clocks have been put up though. At least now he has something to look at. Continues to stare at them as the seconds drain away.

He hasn't been here long but he's fallen quickly into the habit. Too OCD to miss anything; it's all meticulously planned. Doesn't stop the worry though.

Nothing does.

The first event went as expected. But he'd had a helping hand. Learned about it from Nathan himself. Didn't know it at the time. Gave him a backie. _The guy can pedal, I'll give him that. _A puzzle piece had clicked into place.

Of course he also has his power. His not so trusty side-kick. He was relying on it more than he liked to acknowledge; given its unpredictable nature.

When he picked his precognitive power there was one thing he'd _never_ expected to see. Prepared himself for everything else he couldn't ever bear to witness - just incase.

Except this. Anything but this. Got _no_ warning.

One minute Simon's forcing cereal into his mouth and trying to remember how to swallow when he has no throat; the next his mind is filled with someone else trying to fill _their _mouth.

The spoon clatters to the table.

Simon rams his eyes quickly shut as he tries not to choke in disgust; but it has no affect. Has to wait for the flash to play out in his mind. Actually has to pay attention to the Irish wanker.

_Pants around his ankles. Legs hooked awkwardly over the bars that surround his make-shift bed in the upper level. Uses the foothold it gives him to pull his lower naked half towards his eager open mouth. So close. "Come on baby! Almost there!" Licks the tip successfully. Curls on his head bouncing around._

"Nathan!" Simon snarls out the word and grips the table forcibly; catches sight of the clock in the community centre. Only 5 minutes from now. Can see what's coming_. Literally. _

_Yanks himself closer in excitement; arse sliding along the floor towards the bars. Lost in the moment. Makes a firm purchase on himself and starts pumping away. Sliding closer and closer. And. Too close. Gives a too enthusiastic thrust and skids through the gap in the bars. Makes an attempt to stop himself from falling. But it's too late. He's a heap of pathetic limbs and an unsatisfied penis in the middle of the floor._

Technically, Simon doesn't have to do anything.

He'll be fine.

_At least he dies semi-happy, _Simon thinks. Can almost bring himself to crack a smirk over the thought, except there's too much naked cock in his mind for that.

As if he didn't already have enough going on.

Part of Simon thinks it would be amusing to see the gangs face when they stumble in and find that. Maybe even teach him a lesson. Probably not though, knowing Nathan.

But this was the confident side of Simon talking. A side that mostly takes over him now. He has to allow it to, otherwise he'd still be hiding in the corner, wishing he could turn invisible. The old part of him lingers; undecided. Not quite comfortable with the new version of himself yet. He's changed beyond recognition; most would say for the better. But a tiny piece of him flutters under the surface, terrified he is losing himself.

Did he even know who he was any more?

No.

Maybe.

Alisha...

Yes.

_Alisha._..

_Yes._

Had to believe it.

He _was_ a superhero_._

xxx

_You only just came back from the dead, _Simon thinks as he crouches down next to Nathan's body; keeping his gaze firmly upwards and behind his mask.

It's too early in the morning for anyone else to be around. Can he stop looking over his shoulder for a moment?

He feels himself relax in the familiar environment. It's a place exactly the way he remembers. Minus the half naked Nathan.

Uh... Nathan. _Now what? _

Timidly reaches down and pulls Nathan's crusty boxers awkwardly up his skinny legs and under his ass; looking as far as he can in the other direction.

Picking up litter _was _the best time of his life. Even with this dickhead. The community centre feels him with a feeling he can't comprehend, calming the knot in his chest at the world he left behind. The finale image of Kelly, Curtis and the Rudys' flickers behind his eyelids.

This world was still his own.

_Then why does it feel so fucking foreign?_

Reminds himself to breathe. If he can remember how to.

Uh... Dickhead? _Not quite finished yet._ Reaches over again with a grimace and a gloved hand, nudges Nathan's privates back into his pants - testicles and all.

_Best time of his life. _Simon snickers. _Yeah, right._

Once Nathan is clothed in all the right places, Simon wonders how long he can stay. Actually takes comfort in the dead boy next to him. At least he's not alone.

Can't risk it though. Shakes himself out of his funk; he could wake up at any moment. Instead he drags the lifeless body over to and up the stairs. Plonks him a little harder than necessary onto the blankets.

Turns to leave. Hesitates though. Looks back, slightly lifting up his mask. Risky. But so worth it.

"It's good to see you again, Nathan." Simon smiles genuinely at his friend. "Try not to die too much."

He takes the exit to the roof, feeling oddly better. Odd; given the nightmares he'll now be having.

An unscheduled mission. Successful.

It was one act of many to come that will go unnoticed. He knows that. It just so happens this one he's entirely happy not to take the credit for. Turns out neither of them would get the glory this time round.

But that was okay.

Simon had gone unnoticed his entire life.

What was the difference now?

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><p><strong>And maybe Nathan will get more flexible one day? Ha. I'd absolutely love some more reviews or suggestions, maybe even a scene you'd like to see? Thank you for reading!<strong>


	3. A Reflection of Ourselves

**A scene I'd always wanted to see. Simon vs. Simon.**

**I don't own Misfits.  
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><p>Simon had often wondered about the future, mostly with fear. Fear that he'd lose everything he'd come to cling onto; his power, his <em>friends.<em>

But he'd never thought his future was in his past.

And his future was standing behind him.

xxx

Simon wasn't sure why he was here. Why _had _he come? Why was he lingering outside his own home like a stray cat? He already knew too well what he'd see. He'd lived it himself before; hundreds of Friday nights over, just like this. Alone. Watching his videos. Pretending to himself that he finally might be good at _something_.

The scene before him was so familiar he thinks he might be sick.

He remembers this night so clearly for a reason.

It was the day he'd finally caught the guy in the mask on film.

It flickers on the screen behind the glass of the window; his life flashing before his eyes in double.

Here he was; the very same suit blending him into the darkness, as he watches himself, watch himself.

It was an accident. He never meant to be filmed. Should have know what day it was. Should have avoided that street like the plague. Maybe he really _was _good at taking videos; he'd whipped his phone out quickly enough. And it had happened. So it always had to happen. He comforted himself with the knowledge that he couldn't have ever done anything about it. But he'd always lived in fear of his power being revealed, and now it looked like he flaunted it.

The _then_ Simon hits the rewind button and watches it again.

He remembers admiring the guy.

Remembers feeling_ jealous._

Simon can taste sick in his mouth at the memory.

He wants to hammer on the window and yell at himself. Tell him he is a fucking fool and that he should be with Alisha instead. _Love her while you can! _He wants to scream it until his throat bleeds and his hands bleed from the broken glass.

Alisha is dying all over again. It flashes into his mind before he can stop it. Blood gushes from her throat onto his empty hands and spills onto the floor. Her body an empty weight in his arms.

The then Simon watches for a third time.

_She can love you. You don't need to think about her in that way anymore. It's happened! She loves you. She has. Will again. She... _

He swallows thickly.

_Loved you. _

A tear drips onto his lip. He doesn't even move to wipe it away. Can't. There was no movement or noise outside the window that night. Nothing that caught his attention. So there can't be again. Free will doesn't exist for him anymore.

It seems like the end of the world. And maybe for this version of himself, it is.

_You're going to die,_ he wants to whisper.

But it isn't the end of the world for _him._ It's the start. It's all about to start again. And how can he regret that for himself when he's about to get everything he's always wanted? There's agony and hope on both sides of the glass. So intertwined and linked that both have to happen simultaneously for either to happen at all.

And does he really know himself well enough to know that he'd want this?

He looks at himself; the back of his head at least. Then he looks at the screen. The image is shaky and taken from a distance; but it's there. Looking at them both.

Alisha. A small smile on her lips.

Simon smiles through his tears. Knows that the past him is smiling at her too.

And it's enough. Will always be enough.

He _knows._

He'd worried about the future; but he doesn't have to any more.

He was here.

He was living it.

He was making it happen.

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><p><strong>Thank you for reading!<strong>


	4. Drink, Drugs and Driving

**Thank you to everybody reading and reviewing this!**

**To the reviewer who asked about the cameras in the Community Centre… I do absolutely intend to write a scene involving some footage that Simon sees. The flash Simon got of Nathan in Chapter 2 happened only five minutes into the future, so by the time Simon got to the Community Centre Nathan was already dead and it kind of made the cameras moot point. But I should've mentioned them, they are definitely up! **

**I don't own Misfits.  
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><p>She's perfect; but she still double checks herself in the mirror.<p>

_Alisha, you're perfect._

An extra layer of lip-gloss doesn't change that but it changes the way she feels. She takes off her thong, stashes it in her purse and hitches her skirt up a little higher, before exiting the toilets back out into the club. All eyes are on her; so she walks a little taller, pushes her chest out a little more. She doesn't understand. Doesn't see past the looks guys give her. All it matters is that they're looking. She's in danger. Always. The shorter skirt doesn't make her powerful like she thinks - it only makes her more vulnerable.

There's only so many times he can hide the car keys when she's drunk. Only so many times he can thaw the drug deal from happening. Can't even hold back her hair when she's sick. No one can. She dry heaves alone in the toilets, too far past it to realise she isn't actually alone.

He was only trying to help her.

But she's in danger. Always. No matter what he does.

She has to walk home alone because she doesn't have her dad's car; the keys went fucking missing. She's taken drugs from a guy behind the club because her regular dealer blew her off; she's not even that sure what she took. She's so pissed and high after arguing with Curtis that the pavement is a blur in front of her.

No one catches her when she falls.

More of her blood is spilt. She's too fragile for this. For any of it. The skin on her knee rips the second it hits the concrete and he flinches when she hisses. He was here to save her but he'd tried too hard and fucked up.

Now she was hurt.

He'd promised her he would never hurt her.

He'd promised her he wouldn't go back in time.

He wanted to believe they weren't lies; they were just broken promises that had to be broken. And moments like this - when he was just the silent shadows moving along the tops of the buildings - he didn't feel bad about breaking them. He was protecting her; even when she never knew. He was glad that the promises had comforted her. But he was comforted now, being able to be with her when no one else was.

She looks up towards the rooftops every now and then, as if sensing a presence. It's too dark and her mind is too foggy; but maybe she can feel his eyes. He hopes that she's not scared. Not of him, not ever.

Maybe she can't see him at all; she is high after all. Maybe she was seeing angles in superhero costumes.

He wonders when it will stop hurting to look at her. She called him a pervert yesterday. So different to the girl he lost, but he loves her all the same. She'd told him that they had great sex, but right at this moment the idea seems impossible to him; she thinks of him as a _pervert._ She'd recoil from his touch and all he wants to do is _touch_ her. Touch her and feel her heartbeat against his lips. Feel her body heat against him, to replace the memory of her cold skin that stalks him constantly in the back of his mind. He'd never seen someone so beautiful being lowered into a grave.

"Alisha! Alisha, wait up!" Curtis runs up behind her, more than a little drunk himself. He doesn't notice the blood on her leg.

"Just leave me alone, yeah?" Alisha mumbles. Her eyes are glazed over; perhaps concentrating on not throwing up whenever she opens her mouth.

"I'm sorry, all right?" He trails just behind her, following her home. "You didn't touch me on purpose. I know. I felt like a prick. Everyone looking at me like that."

"Oh whatever!" She spits at him, spinning on her heels. "I was dancing. I was drunk. It's not my fault you got too close. Fuck you! You made me feel like a prick."

"Then I guess we're both pricks." He tries out a smirk, gauging her reaction before letting his eyes run over her chest.

She's still pissed off but it makes her ache when someone looks at her like that. "See something you like?" She pouts at him and pushes her cleavage together.

Simon's looking too. A sick, throbbing feeling of knowing what's under the material. Seen and touched so many times - so out of reach right now.

He had licked the skin that Curtis is looking at lustfully and he could tell him about the noise that she'd made. Something that Curtis would never know for himself. Something that Simon hoped would happen for himself any day now.

He is a pervert.

Looking at her body and knowing how to touch her; touch her in ways she doesn't even know she likes yet.

"Yeah. Yeah, I do." Curtis answers her question, licking his lips and taking a step forward. He palms her ass through her denim skirt, careful not to touch her skin.

Alisha moans, but the moan is weak and undeserving. He tries rubbing her nipples through her bra but it's not good enough for her.

"It's not enough," she whines at him. "I want to be fucking touched!"

Curtis doesn't answer. Whatever he says will start an argument. Instead he moves his hand round to the front of her skirt, trying without much hope to satisfy her.

He cups her before she can stop him.

"Curtis, don't!" His fingers slip under the material, hitting bare skin where underwear should be. She tries to push him away but he's already latched onto her and she whimpers at the contact.

"I need to fuck you right now!" He groans at her skin, the veins in his arm pulsating. "You make me so fucking hard."

The words and the alcohol buzz in her system, her futile pushes turning into frenzied grabs. She clings to him, thrusting against him as he fights with his zip. It isn't her fault, it isn't rape. She tells herself this over and over as he fumbles and fills her. She needs this too much right now and it feels too fucking good.

Her back slams into the wall and she doesn't care that he never kisses her; there's too many curse words streaming out of his mouth. Doesn't care that he keeps his eyes closed as he fucks her, making her feel like a blow-up doll. It's _something._

Simon watches; tense at first. If there was any sign she didn't want this then he'd stop it within a heartbeat, but he can't intervene with something that she welcomes. And she opens her legs wider, welcoming him.

So he watches. Maybe it's because he thinks he's protecting her. Maybe it's because he wants to. He wants to see why she acts the way she acts and suddenly the past Alisha makes more sense to him. He understands why in the morning she'll arrive at the community centre and be a bigger bitch to him then she's ever been before. It because of these moments; when she hates herself more than she hates anyone else.

He dies for this girl and her privacy is his. So he needs to know. Needs to see. Can see that she deserves better. He wishes he could tell his past self to smile at her in the morning, rather than look at her like he's going to cry. It only makes her feel worse. And the worse she feels, the worse she acts.

Curtis growls out a few more insults and goes limp against her.

Alisha pushes away from him and brushes down her skirt. Curtis won't remember and she tells herself she won't either.

Curtis looks down at himself, cold and exposed. "What happened?"

"You touched me. You got yourself out, you pervert." She forces herself to roll her eyes and turns around to walk home.

Simon sees Curtis inspect himself and watches the disgust contort his face.

"Alisha! It's rape!" He yells after her. "So wrong." He puts himself away and takes off in the opposite direction.

Simon follows Alisha home. She been biting her lip to stop herself from crying all the way to her front door. As soon as she closes it behind her, she lets out a sob. He can hear her through the open window.

He loses track of time as he stands there at the edge of the building, content to watch her move around. He hopes that she's put a plaster on her knee.

Alisha's shape is an outline against the curtains in her bedroom, so he takes the moment to move closer to her house. The last time he stood alone, in the dark, at a front door, he'd come armed with matches and a urge to piss.

He looks back up at the windows, watches her silhouette shed the skimpy top and shrug into an old hoodie.

So what if he was a pervert?

She disappears out of sight for a second, but he can hear her yell.

"Fucking hell, Dad. What the fuck did you do with those keys?"

He smirks.

So what if she was a bitch?

Simon pulls a set of car keys from his pocket and posts them through the letter box, Alisha's head turning at the noise.

_Night Alisha._

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><p><strong>Thank you for reading! Reviews are very welcome and loved!<strong>


	5. A Visit to the New Guy

**Once again, thank you so much for enjoying and supporting this!**

**I have to say, one thing I'm struggling with is the time span - it's very short. Simon arrives in 1x06, spends most of his time with Alisha in 2x03, and then dies in 2x04. I can't really reference actual scenes from the show without limiting myself, so I'm not putting a marker of time in the stories. ****Besides, who needs to when I can indulge in guilty pleasure scenes like this? I hope I don't get ridiculed for this one!  
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**I don't own Misfits. Or an orange hoodie.**

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><p>He feels guilty when he remembers.<p>

There was someone he was neglecting to protect.

Two someones, actually.

Did Simon consider them friends? He didn't know one of them that well. His past self would have got on with that one; all facts and fear and loneliness. The other... Well Simon saved his penis didn't he? And they had loved Alisha once. He was sure that classed them as friends.

Simon finds them in the park; a place that's all grass and broken beer bottles. It's dark and late, but it doesn't make them keep their voices down.

"You... Will you... just piss off, you. I wanted to have a nice drink. Admire the view of dog shit. And all I can hear is your whiney little cocktoss of a voice in my ear. Chill the fuck out, man. Have a beer." Rudy chucks Rudy a bottle, accidentally on purpose, hitting him in the groin.

Simon can't hear what the Other Rudy mumbles, but Rudy doesn't take it very well. He takes a swing at the other version of himself, knocking him flat on his back.

"Fuck off! Just fuck - off! I will not get liver disease from one beer... Ten beers. Okay. Ten. So fucking obsessed with numbers all the time. You know your problem? You don't drink enough."

Simon creeps closer. He'd followed people before; ducked behind bins or stalked from a distant. This was a new low; even for him.

He hides behind a tree, barely concealed by the trunk.

"You're drunk," the Other Rudy accuses, backing away as he says it to avoid getting hit again.

"And you'll be dead if you don't do me the kind honour of fucking right off. Right now, man. You won't be such a moan-y little minge-bag in death." Rudy slurs slightly, proving the other one's point. The drink is making his head thick and his usual charming tolerance for this bullshit is severely lacking.

"I wonder how that works... I mean, if I die, do you die? And I guess when you die, I'm definitely dead. Which is a shame really. Because you're clearly going to hell and I..." The Other Rudy clams up, unable to tolerate the death stares any longer.

"I'm all you have," he tries again, speaking more softly. "You're drinking alone in the park. You're way past the recommended limit for alcohol consumption. You want me to leave you like this?"

Rudy doesn't answer, he chews on something and then turns to puke into the grass, sticking his middle finger up at himself as he does so. Now he's surrounded by bottles, dog shit and puke.

Simon pities him; both of them. The Other Rudy slinks off into the darkness, defeated and equally as alone. Alone as the two guys he leaves behind.

Simon should have come equipped with ginger biscuits for Rudy's nausea. Instead his pockets are lined with condoms for Rudy's... cock. It wasn't exactly what superhero dreams were made of. Then again, maybe it was. Simon wouldn't have to see his penis again and future Rudy spawn would be momentarily delayed; and that was definitely for the good of mankind.

Kids.

Simon's suddenly blinking away a rush of hot tears as his and Alisha's babies crawl round his ankles, tugging on his trouser legs. Tiny and beautiful, they cry for their mummy.

And daddy was going to leave them soon as well.

He's blinded by the anguish; the shaky figments of his tied imagination tormenting him with what could have been; what he wanted so badly but was cursed never to have.

Drained memories and the dead possibilities; they were all he had for company these days. Everything was dying around him. He was dead already; and he hadn't taken the final bullet yet.

He hadn't spoken to anybody for days. Maybe he'd open his mouth and find his voice-box incapable of speech. His lungs couldn't gasp for oxygen anymore, his heart was too fractured to beat. The moments he surrounded himself in Alisha - her life, her laugh - those where the moments he could function; the moments he feels whole. Her heart is still beating, so it didn't matter that his wasn't.

But it's temporary.

Everything is.

Her? She's especially fleeting. A blip. A blinking light, getting dimmer and dimmer all the time she hurtles towards her fate. And he can't do anything.

Nothing.

Lie; that's about it. And he will, 100 times over, he'll lie about it. It hurts him to think it. She never lied to him; she told him the death that awaited him. But she also gave him hope. Pure, mindless, exquisite hope. She persuaded him to cling to it; he would _never_ leave her. The truth ate away at him, predestined and unrelenting; he couldn't change what was already written. But he indulged in the fantasies - for her. He wanted them as much as her.

But he'll lie to her. Over and over. Anything to keep her from feeling what he's feeling right now. His life in fast-forward; living to die. She'd never feared her own death, she was only haunted by his. So she never knew her destiny, and she wouldn't, ever.

_I'm not going to let that happen, _would roll from his tongue like it was embedded between his teeth; a fact so heartbreakingly deceiving he would surely burn in hell. And it would be in that moment that he would find his voice. His lungs would sting with a deep intake of air. His heart would malfunction in the best possible way; beating too hard and too fast to be healthy. And she would be in his arms.

Their lives on repeat.

Why was this happening to _them?_ Why...

"Honestly. I can safely say, I've never - not even at school - seen a real life pervert. Until now!" Rudy is suddenly standing directly in front of him, pointing a finger at Simon's chest, his breath rancid with vomit. He can barely keep his balance.

"Yeah, you... That is one bright hoodie, man!" He repeatedly taps Simon's chest with the same finger, making him flinch at the contact. "Hiding behind a tree and all... It's very pedophile behaviour, is it not? Are you on a registered list of some sort?"

Simon stares at him, his eyes wide with shock at his own stupidity. His mind races, erratic panic filling his chest as he pulls the hoodie closer around his face.

This was wrong; this wasn't supposed to happen.

"I guess you like what you see? I am quite spectacular, I must admit." Rudy gestures to his lanky, dirty frame, tripping over his own feet as he poses.

Rudy hadn't recognised him in the future. But then - neither had Seth at first. Maybe...

"You're very stare-y," Rudy quips. "Perfect eyes for a pedophile, if you don't mind me saying. Beautiful, man."

"I'm not a pedophile," Simon manages to choke out from beneath the orange material; the words getting stuck in his throat as he forces his mouth to open and operate - like a real human being. He sounds like a pervert; all robotic and unused.

Rudy reaches down onto the ground around Simon's feet and comes back up holding numerous little packets that have fallen from Simon's pockets.

He pulls a face at Simon, shoving an arm out with a fistful of condoms, nearly smacking Simon in the face. "Really? You're really going to tell me you're not a full blown pedophile now? At least you're prepared, man. I respect that. I do. You... You could be one of the best damn pedophiles to ever grace my existence. I... I think I might cry." He stashes the condoms clumsily into his jacket, before sluggishly raising his eyebrows. "You don't mind me having these, do you? I mean-" Rudy pauses to swallow back a mouthful of sick before continuing, his hand lingering around his mouth. "You've clearly stood there for a good half an hour, imagining bumming me. So it's the least you can do for me. Really."

Shit, was Simon meant to do something? Fix this somehow? All he can do is stare at him; his power evading him, leaving him blind.

"Condoms," Rudy mutters to himself, stumbling off. "Rubbery little fuckers, they are."

Simon leans his head against the tree trunk, the bark sticking to his clammy forehead as his body hammers with adrenaline. The hood slips off backwards, pooling around his shoulder. Rudy is long gone, his figure staggering off into the estate.

And once again, Simon is alone.

He can only pray it was too dark.

Pray that was Rudy was too drunk.

How badly had Simon just fucked up?

What the **fuck** had he just _changed?_

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><p><strong>Ok, let me clarify. Nothing has actually changed. Rudy is just gonna go home and pass out. A pedo in the park is just an average Saturday night for him. And if anyone wonders why I put Simon in the hoodie rather than the full suit and mask; what's more conspicuous and rememberable? Anyway, hate or love it, please review!<br>**


	6. The Not So Powerful Power

**Thank you to everybody reading and enjoying these stories. This is definitely my favourite one yet and I hope you feel the same! Oh and I'm from the UK, so if I ever use words that don't make sense to you just give me a shout :)  
><strong>

**I don't Misfits. **

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><p>It's impressive what you can see standing at the corner of a rooftop. An endless expanse of pavements and buildings rippling out from the dirty lake at its core. The whole of the estate served up like an open book; perfect for a stalker. Or a superhero. There didn't seem to be much difference between the two these days.<p>

Simon looks out over the concrete maze he had once called home. There's graffiti on a wheelie bin, a piece of litter blowing in the wind. It wasn't exactly perfect but no matter how much they scrubbed or picked, it wasn't going to change; at least not in his lifetime.

"Keith! Keith!" Kelly's voice echoes loudly around the estate, drawing in Simon's attention from roof, as well as Nathan's from inside of the building.

"Who the fuck is Keith?" He says, coming out of the community centre with a bang as the door slams shut behind him. He blinks against the dull grey morning light, rubbing at his eyes.

"My dog, yeah?" Kelly says, scanning the street as she speaks, holding a dog lead in between her hands. "You fed him chicken nuggets."

"I knew this girl once," Nathan replies, going off on a tangent as he sucks on the string of his hoodie. "She was obsessed with her dog too. You know, the kind of weirdo who gets the animal's name tattooed on their ass? Yeah well, it turns out the dog didn't feel the same way back. She had to whack Pedigree Chum on her pussy just to get its attention. I think that was more for her than the dog. I still shagged her though. The dog watched us the entire time."

"Nathan!" Kelly stares at him in disgust and Simon also tries not to heave behind his mask.

They're not aware of Simon's presence yet, but he doesn't duck or bother to hide. The group have seen him a few times by now and he feels confident openly watching them. They wouldn't ever discover who he is, or at least, they wouldn't until it was too late. Simon suddenly realises - with amusement and some regret - that he won't ever get to see Nathan find out who was really behind the mask.

He can hear his response clearly ringing in his head.

_Nice one weird kid. _

Simon almost smirks at the idea of it but the gesture tugs and stings the corners of his lips, contorting his mouth into a grimace. So many things to think about; so little emotional strength to actually be able to do it.

That was maybe the one thing he hadn't accounted for - the pain he would feel over watching his friends. Watching things he'd already experienced from a distant, even back then. It was like he was missing out all over again. Only, rather than hiding behind his invisibility, he has to hide behind his mask. Maybe that was the worse part of all; he'd finally changed into a man that everyone would accept, yet no one was ever going to get to meet him.

He was prepared for his death in his future, but he hadn't expected to be slowly killed by his past.

"Hey, a shag's a shag," Nathan really says, shrugging coolly. "Do you and Keith...?" He trails off, waggling his thick eyebrows suggestively as sucks his lower lip into his mouth.

Kelly's own mouth pops open at him, what fucking planet was he from? She decides not to justify him with a response and doesn't meet his eyes when she finally speaks again. "Keith's gone missing," she says and maybe her lip quivers - just slightly.

"So get another one," Nathan unhelpfully retorts. "That's what I did when my cat ate my goldfish."

"Did you ever really have a goldfish?" She asks, pulling at face at him over her shoulder as she listens to his thoughts.

"Well, no," he says, shifting under her glare. "But that's not the point! I was trying to be all comforting and shit."

Maybe she smiles at him - just slightly.

"Keith!" Kelly yells again. "Keith!"

"So what does this Keith look like?" Nathan asks hesitantly. "I mean, just for future reference. I might spot him going at it with a poodle behind the community centre."

It's then that Simon sees the blur of coloured fur sprinting down an alley to the left of the estate. It had been a while since he'd seen the picture of Kelly and her dog posing in a profile picture on Facebook but he's pretty sure the colours match his memory. Almost instinctively he goes to call out to them, forgetting himself for a vital moment. He quickly swallows down the words, a strangled cough straining between his lips as his throat locks down. But it's enough noise to get their attention, their heads turning towards him as his hand lingers in the air. He's not sure whether to fling the hand over his mouth to stifle the strange urge to speak to his friends or use it point out the direction of the rapidly disappearing dog.

"You alright there, fella?" Nathan calls up at Simon. "Only it sounded like you just coughed up a fur-ball."

Simon takes one look at the pair of them and writes them off as useless. He can't communicate what he can see from up here without leading them on a wild goose chase. So he takes off in a run, deciding to go after Keith himself. He throws himself off the edge building and into a mid-air forward roll, Nathan letting out a jealous tut behind him as Simon too disappears.

A flash of white and Simon's on his tail again, the pavement rapidly slipping away under his feet. His training and his improved stamina means he can dodge and weave and easily keep up. He's not out of breath but the oxygen burns in his lungs, giving him a sense of freedom he's not felt for a long time. _I'm not dead yet,_ he thinks to himself as pushes himself just that little bit harder.

"Keith!' He hisses quietly before flinging himself at the animal, trapping him in the frame his body without putting any weight on him.

The dog tries to nip at Simon's hands as he picks him up but he's luckily protected by the gloves. It's odd; Simon's not sure why Kelly loves him so much - he's fat and smells kind of bad - but at the same time the wriggly body of a warm animal tucked under his arm fills him with a feeling he thought he was suddenly incapable of feeling.

Happiness.

Simon walks back to where he left Nathan and Kelly, building Keith's trust until he can scratch him behind the ears.

"Keith!" Kelly shouts, gob-smacked as she registers the sight in front of her. A fucking superhero had saved her dog.

She starts to go towards Simon, but he quickly takes two steps backwards, holding a hand out in warning. Her eyebrows knit together, confused and... concentrating? She glances towards Nathan and back at the guy in the suit.

"Why can't I hear you?" She calls outs, focusing on Simon even more. "It's like he's blocking me or something," she whispers to Nathan.

Simon realises in that moment that there was flip side to him buying the immunity power. It wasn't all to do with being able to initiate a relationship with Alisha; it was also to protect his identity from Kelly.

He can only respond by gesturing towards Keith and slowly lowering him to the ground. She gets the drift of his actions and sinks into a crouch, softly calling Keith's name in encouragement.

It actually pains Simon to let go. He gives him a quick pat and releases him, watching him dash towards Kelly.

"Keith, my ickle baby!" She coos as she scoops him up and lets him lick her face. Nathan crinkles his nose up at that, he can guess exactly where that tongue has been.

"What does that prick want now?" A heartbreakingly familiar and beautiful voice suddenly spits, stabbing like a blade into Simon's heart.

Alisha struts into the scene, glaring at Simon with a hatred that makes his head spin. The desire to go to her - to pick her up, to kiss her eyelids, to crumble onto his knees at her feet and bury his face into her belly while he clings onto her jacket - pulses so hard and determinedly in his veins he has to bite into his lips until he tastes his own blood, just to stop himself from actually going to her. He clenches his fists and stares at her; dying and surviving in the same intake of breath.

"He found Keith for me," Kelly says, eyeing Simon in wonder.

Alisha doesn't know how to respond to that, so she tugs out her phone, turning her back on him as she receives a text.

Simon's never felt so rejected; and he's been rejected at a lot. He tells himself he understands the situation but it's too much of a giant head-fuck to not feel anything but pure, undiluted agony. He's never wanted her so badly.

And then the past Simon turns up.

"Hi," he says nervously to the group but he mainly gets ignored.

Alisha doesn't even look up from her phone.

"It's him," Simon hears himself say, feeling the oddest sensation of his own eyes sweeping the length of his body.

"Why do you look so stunned all the time?" Alisha snaps at the past him, staring at his wide eyes in challenge until he's forced to look away. And when she's managed that, she glances back up at the future version of Simon but she hisses at his past. "Seriously, you're just as much as a dick as he is for embracing all this bullshit. This power stuff? It's not something we should be encouraging. Yeah?"

It's with that remark and her eyes intent on him, that Simon realises he has to get the fuck out of there. He cannot bear the pain of the knife digging in twice, wounding him doubling in two different points of time.

He spins on his heels, trembling with the effort to move and not shatter into a million pieces. _Go! Move! _A little voice inside him shouts, urging him to pick up his pace and escape a hell he's doomed to suffer.

"Um... thanks!" Kelly calls out after the quickly departing figure, words failing as her mind ticks with questions.

Simon spits out a mouthful of blood as he runs; not quite sure where he's running to.

He's too shaky to take the rooftops.

For once, he sticks to the ground.

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><p><strong>Anddd: To be continued! The next chapter will follow on directly from this scene. Thank you for reading and reviews are absolutely adored :)<strong>


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